


Mitchell and Beale

by bechloehuh



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Murder Mystery, Rizzoli & Isles AU, all that bullshit, chief medical examiner chloe, homicide detective beca, i'll be putting warnings at the beginning of each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bechloehuh/pseuds/bechloehuh
Summary: Boston Homicide Detective Beca Mitchell and Chief Medical Examiner Chloe Beale are best friends who combine their expertise to solve Boston's most complex cases.If they happen to fall in love along the way, then that's completely out of their control.





	Mitchell and Beale

**Author's Note:**

> So a few years back, I started to write a Rizzoli & Isles AU. I deleted it because I sucked at writing and my continuity skills were terrible. But here I am, rewriting it and hopefully doing it justice this time. This is very different to what I usually write so go easy on me. I’ve taken most of the dialogue from the show but the emotions and all that nonsense is all my own words.
> 
> This fic will follow the plot of Rizzoli & Isles so if you don’t want spoilers, I suggest not reading. If you’ve never heard of Rizzoli & Isles, prepare yourself for a lot of crime and death and murder and Beca and Chloe pining for each other. Alright, peace. Hope you enjoy these nerds falling in love while surrounded by dead people.

**Content Warning: Mentions of blood, murder, and captivity.**

/

“Mitchell. What? Alright, I’ll be right there.”

The police are already surrounding the house when she arrives. Yellow police tape lines the front yard, cutting off entry to the premises. Behind it are a number of press reporters; phones, microphones, cameras, and other recording devices held out towards her coworker who looks to be refusing any questions.

“Bernie,” she calls out to him, motioning for him to come to her.

“I thought you had the night off.”

“Commander cleared you?” she asks, ignoring him.

“What’s it to you?”

“It’s my case.”

“Since when? I’m up.”

“I just spoke to the commander, it’s my case. Where’s Benji?”

Bernie doesn’t have to say anything. She turns when she hears retching noises, and rolls her eyes when she sees Benji hunched over a bush outside of the house. She never knows why Benji wanted to be a Homicide Detective. He’s good, she’ll give him that, but he’s the only Detective she knows who almost passes out at the sight - or even the  _ mention _ \- of a dead body.

“Dr. Chloe Beale, Chief Medical Examiner.”

Beca turns around at the sound of her co-worker's voice, and of  _ course _ Chloe showed up to work at 7PM in a tight skirt and heels. She never expected anything less, but it still surprises her every single time.

She watches Chloe walk inside the house, and tries to ignore the feeling in her stomach when Chloe turns around and smiles at her.

“You alright there buddy?” Bernie asks Benji, and Beca laughs when Benji just says it was something he ate.

Detective Swanson is already in the house with Chloe when they enter, and the scene they find is, for lack of a better word, gruesome. Benji almost throws up again, and Beca gives him the go ahead to start processing the rest of the house before he ends up vomiting all over the victim that Chloe is examining.

His arms, hands, and ankles are bound together with duct tape; head leaning back against the back of the couch and his throat slit from one side to the other. And it’s been years on the job but Beca’s still not quite used to the sight of the victims she investigates. She’s not sure she ever will be. This one seems familiar though, and she hopes to God that her gut feeling is wrong.

Chloe tells her that the cut on the man’s throat is ten centimeters, and then she’s looking at Beca as if she’s waiting for her to say something. Beca just nods, crossing her arms as she steps up to take a closer look.

“Yep, very dead,” she confirms, which pulls a laugh from Chloe and Jesse.

“Victim is Dr Jason Howard,” Jesse says. “Thirty four. His wife, Christine, is missing. We found signs of forced entry in the back.”

It’s all routine from there, and Beca gets deja vu at least four times. They collect evidence and ask Chloe questions and Chloe theorizes on what could’ve happened, and Benji comes in and averts his eyes when the coroners take away the body.

“I’ll do the autopsy in the morning,” Chloe tells Beca, and then she’s smiling at her for a while too long before leaving.

She ignores the feeling in her stomach when Jesse looks at her knowingly, as if reading her mind.

“Bec-”

“Want a drink?”

She knows she should go home and sleep but it’s hard to when she knows there’s a murderer on the loose, and it’s even harder when that murderer might be someone who she originally thought was locked up for life.

/

“You alright?”

She takes a swig of her beer, shaking her head.

“Thinking about his wife.”

“You think she did it?”

“No. No, I’ve seen this before, I know that the significant other is usually the first suspect, but… I don’t know man, this feels familiar.”

“Familiar?” Her jaw clenches at the thought of him, and she has to loosen her grip on her beer bottle before she ends up shattering it. “Wait,” Jesse says, and Beca holds her breath. “You don’t think Ritter did this, do you? He’s in jail, Bec.”

She sighs. “I’m gonna go question him tomorrow.”

Jesse nods, reaching over for the little bowl of peanuts on the bar. “I’ll come with you.”

/

The sight of him gives her chills, but part of her is just relieved at the fact that he’s still here and not on the loose. It still doesn’t settle her mind, because it’s possible that he has an apprentice out there doing his work for him, and the thought of that just makes her even more anxious.

“Beca Mitchell,” Ritter says. He looks older, and much more skinnier than she last saw him. His eyes are tired and his smile is devilish; she wills herself to stand tall and be brave instead of letting this man know that she’s scared of him.

Jesse stands to the side as she sits on the table opposite him, ignoring the way he eyes her up and down.

“It’s been a while.”

“See one, do one, teach one.” Beca sits back, clasping her fingers together. “That’s what they taught you in Medical School, right?” He squints his eyes at her. “Who did you teach?”

“I dropped out, Beca.”

“You were  _ kicked _ out.”

“Do your hands still work?”

She grits her teeth, looking away from him and towards Jesse. Her fingers are digging into her left palm and it hurts like hell but she fakes a smile through the pain, and stands up, holding her hands up in front of her.

She turns them over so he can see the other sides, watching how he smiles at the scars there, before dropping them. 

“Good as new.” she says. “Your turn. You trained somebody, didn’t you?”

He laughs, low and husky, and Beca sits back down opposite him, leaning her elbows on the table.

“Tell me, Beca. What do you want to do to me?”

“Frankly, I want to shoot you in the fucking head. Now answer the question. Who killed Dr. Howard? And where’s his wife?”

He stares her down, tilting his head. The way he looks at her makes Beca’s skin crawl - it always has done - but she doesn’t back down, and she can see Jesse anxiously chewing the nail on his thumb in the corner of her eye.

Eventually, Ritter sighs. “I see that our time is up.”

Her head feels like it’s going to explode as she watches the officers take Ritter back to his cell. Jesse is waiting patiently, hands on his hips as the sound of metal cuffs clang against each other, and then the heavy door is slamming shut.

She jumps when her phone rings, and she looks at it to see that it’s Benji.

“Mitchell.” she greets. “Yeah, okay, we’ll be right there.” she hangs up and turns to Jesse, who has a knowing look on his face, but she confirms his suspicions anyway. “They found Christine Howard.”

/

“She’s been here 36 hours,” Chloe tells her when she approaches her. The body is pale, naked, and covered with leaves and branches. She wonders, for a brief moment, if Chloe ever feels for the victims like she does. Wonders if Chloe can sleep at night knowing what’s happened, what’s happening, and what will happen.

“The body. The way she’s laid out. Looks like she’s taking a nap or something.”

“Weird, right?”

Beca nods, crouching down. “Why didn’t he bury her?”

“Maybe he didn’t have time.” 

Beca looks up at Jesse, immediately shaking her head. “No.” she looks back at the body. “No, it means something.”

/

“I found carpet fiber on Christine Howard’s body. The lab is processing it.”

Beca sets down a coffee on Chloe’s desk, humming in acknowledgement before taking a sip of her own coffee.

“Thanks. You okay?”

“I’d be better if we could find this fucking d-”

“- _ Hey _ .”

Beca sighs. “Sorry. Yesterday just got to me.”

“What did he say?”

Before Beca can answer, Bernie walks into the lab with his hands in his pockets and a somber look on his face. Beca knows that look, but she asks him what’s up anyway.

“You may wanna sit down.”

“No. Tell me.”

“A few hours ago, Ritter escaped custody.” Her stomach drops, and she puts her coffee down on the desk next to Chloe’s before turning to Bernie.

“ _ What? _ ”

“The doctors thought he was suffering from appendicitis. Took him into the operating room and he- the tapes show him killing the three doctors who were trying to help him.”

“How?”

“Slit their throats.”

“Wha-? Why wasn’t he cuffed?!”

Bernie shrugs. “They thought he was gonna die.”

“Why the  _ fuck _ would they want to save a sick son of a-” She’s cut off by a hand on her back, and she turns to see Chloe looking at her worriedly. Chloe rubs the small of her back and tells her that it’s okay, and Beca takes a few small breaths before turning back to Bernie.

“Show me the tape.”

/

“Why do you always look like you’re about to do a photoshoot?”

Chloe smiles at her, taking her hand and pulling her into her house.

She never planned to show up at Chloe’s at 11PM, but she couldn’t sleep and there was no way she was going to Jesse’s or her dad’s house. Chloe was the only person who wouldn’t question Beca, so she figured it was the best option. Plus, she always liked her company.

She tries not to notice the fact that Chloe rubs her thumb gently over the scar on the back of her hand before dropping it and going over to her wine cooler.

“Red or white?” 

“Uh, you got any beers?” Chloe looks at her as if to ask ‘ _ do I look like I’d have beer in my home? _ ’ and Beca laughs. “Alright. Red, I guess.”

She tries not to drink it one but it’s been a long couple of days, and she doesn’t think Chloe judges her too hard when she downs the whole glass within a few seconds.

Chloe makes her way to the dining area, and Beca follows, almost screaming when she sees the animal at the other side of the kitchen island.

“God, what the hell is _ that?! _ ”

“Shhh, you’ll scare him.”

“ _ He’s _ alive?”

It’s a turtle - “a  _ tortoise _ ” Chloe will later tell her - that Beca’s pretty sure is bigger than herself, and though it isn’t moving, she still feels like keeping herself at a distance from it is the safest bet.

“His name is Bass.” The adoration on Chloe’s face as she looks down at the tortoise makes Beca laugh incredulously because of  _ course _ , Chloe would be fond of an animal like this; of  _ course _ she couldn’t settle on a normal pet like a cat or a dog. “Geochelone Sulcata. African spurred tortoise.”

“Bass? He named after an old boyfriend or something?”

“No. William M. Bass.” Chloe says, leaning down to pet him. “The forensic anthropologist who founded the famous body farm?”

“Right, yeah,  _ that _ Bass. Totally know who that is.”

/

Beca understands why Chloe has a billion pillows on her own bed, but she doesn’t understand why she has so many on the bed in the spare bedroom. Chloe tells her they’re for decor, to make it look more homely, but Beca thinks that’s stupid. Nevertheless, she still sleeps in it when she spends the night. 

(Not that this happens a lot.

At least, not as often as Beca would like, but she doesn’t want to think about that.)

She hasn’t slept in two days though, and somehow Chloe’s house has this calming aura about it that helps Beca relax when she’s feeling particularly stressed, and tonight is no different.

When Chloe knocks on the bedroom door, Beca smiles.

“Go away, I’m asleep.”

She hears Chloe laugh as she opens the door, closing it gently before getting into bed beside her. And even though the bed is huge - way bigger and comfier than Beca’s back home - Chloe still scoots closer to her; so close that their arms are touching and she can feel Chloe breathing beside her.

“Your bed not comfy enough for you?”

“Nope.”

Beca smiles. “Is this the part of the night where we gossip? Talk about the boys we like and braid each other’s hair?” Chloe laughs, shaking her head before turning to look at Beca. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and Beca sighs. “Okay, out with it, Beale.”

Just as Chloe opens her mouth to say something, Beca hears the sound of footsteps from outside, and she immediately sits up straight, ready to reach for the gun she had put under the pillow before she settled down.

“Hey,” Chloe whispers, putting a hand on Beca’s arm. And she’s not sure why but her panic immediately dissipates as she looks into Chloe’s eyes. Kind, and warm, and calming. “It’s just Bass, it’s okay.”

She follows suit when Chloe lies back down, her hand still placed on Beca’s arm, and it brings a sort of comfort to Beca that she’s never felt before. And she’s terrified - of Ritter, of his apprentice, of possibly being murdered, of the stupid  _ turtle _ \- but with Chloe being this close to her, she thinks she’s going to be okay.

“Can I tell you something?” Chloe hums, and Beca sucks in a breath. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”

Maybe Chloe’s hand clutched in hers is the reason she falls asleep, but she’ll deny it if anybody asks.

/

She recognizes the room immediately as soon as she wakes up, and all she can think is  _ God _ not again. She doesn’t even have to look at her hands to know that there are two scalpels stuck into them as she struggles on the ground.

When she looks up, Ritter is standing above her.

She tries to scream out for help but her mouth is covered by duct tape and her feet and knees are bound together. Then Ritter is on top of her with a scalpel to her throat, and tears stream down her face as she tries to fight him off of her.

“Beca. Hey, hey hey.”

She jolts awake, breathing heavily and frantically trying to figure out where she is and what’s happening.

“Shh, it’s okay.” It’s Chloe’s voice, and she turns to see a blurry image of her. It takes a second for her to figure out that the reason Chloe is blurry is because there are tears in her eyes, and she quickly looks down at her hands to see that they’re not being pinned down by scalpels, and that she can talk and breathe and  _ move _ . “It was just a dream.” She wipes her eyes and the back of her nose and she lets Chloe hug her, rocking her back and forth as she cries. “You’re safe, Becs.”

/

“Mitchell. Where? Okay, page Swanson.” She hangs up and turns to Benji. “I gotta go, they found another victim.”

It’s the same ordeal. Man, early thirties, bound by duct tape on a chair with his throat slit. There’s no news on the wife, but Beca assumes she’ll be found dead tomorrow, just like the other investigation.

Chloe still runs her through the details. How long the body has been there, roughly what time he died, stuff that Beca tries her hardest to focus on. Only, it’s pretty hard to focus when Ritter could be anywhere right now. She has a feeling that Chloe knows she’s not paying attention, because she’s passing the information onto Benji as the coroners move the body, and Beca only jumps back into reality when Chloe snaps her fingers in front of her face.

“You alright?”

“Mmhm. Yeah.”

“Beca, you-”

“-I’ll catch up with you later.”

/

She’s watching as Chloe finishes up the autopsy when Benji calls her.

“Hey. Where? Okay, keep it off the radio. Take his phone. Hey, and hide your car. We’re coming.” She turns to Chloe, giving her a nervous smile. “You are not gonna like what we’re about to do.”

“Beca?”

“Come on.”

/

“What was he doing all the way out here?”

“Looking for Indian Arrowheads.”

“Native American,” Chloe butts in. “The Wampanoag Tribe was the last to inhabit the area. Also known as the Massachusett.”

Beca looks at Benji and she can see that he’s about to ask the same question she’s thinking - “how the hell do you know that?” - but she stops him, telling him to take the kid who found the body to an officer to be questioned and to call Jesse and tell him the plan.

“What plan?”

Beca sighs. “We’re gonna surveille the body.”

“What? You want me to leave her here?”

“Look, I said you wouldn't like it. Come on.”

“No!”

Beca frowns. “Chlo-”

“I’m calling my team.”

Beca walks over to Chloe, putting her hand on Chloe’s; the one that’s currently dialing a number in her phone. “Hey,” she says, making Chloe look up at her. “They weren’t expecting anyone to find this body. Hear me out, okay? We get the hell out of here and we put both the park entrances under surveillance.”

“What makes you think Ritter isn’t watching us right now?”

“Maybe he is but it’s a chance I’m willing to take, alright?”

“Every second she stays here, more forensic evidence is lost.”

“Chloe.” She moves to grab Chloe’s wrist. “Please. The faster we get out of here, the better chance we have of not being discovered. Chlo, if we don’t do this, we’ve got  _ nothing _ .”

Maybe it’s the pleading in her voice but Chloe sighs and nods, and then she’s telling Beca  _ fine _ , but she’s not happy about it, and Beca finally feels like she can breathe again.

/

“Hey Benji, you still got the west entrance?”

“Yes. Uh, affirmative.”

She rolls her eyes at his attempt at being professional, dropping the walkie down on her lap. She can feel Jesse watching her but she knows that if she looks at him, he’ll know that she’s not okay.

“How you holding up?”

Or maybe he already knows.

“I’ll feel better once we catch him.”

“Yeah.” He pauses, before taking his seatbelt off and opening the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Chill, I gotta pee.”

/

She knows that her anxiety is telling her that Jesse has been gone awhile just to fuck with her, but she’s starting to get cold and Jesse took the keys so she can’t put the heating on, and after checking her phone to see what time it is, she’s pretty sure he has been gone more than five minutes. Usually she wouldn’t be worried, but since it’s the middle of the night and they’re currently waiting for a serial killer - maybe two - to enter the park, she thinks that she has a right to be a little anxious.

“Swanson?” She whispers, closing the car door. She switches her flashlight on. “Hey! Jesse?”

She knows she probably shouldn’t be walking around in the woods but Jesse has to be out there somewhere - for God’s sake, he went to go  _ pee _ \- and she knows that Jesse will call her the typical white girl who dies first in horror movies because she’s too stupid to realize that this is dangerous, but she’s worried.

“Benji?” She says through her radio, and Benji’s reply is quick.

“You good?”

“Jesse went to go pee like, five minutes ago. I’m going to look for him.”

A twig snaps under her foot and she winces, clenching her jaw as she shines her torch towards the entrance in the woods.

“Fuck, if this is how I die…”

The owls and the crickets do nothing to calm her anxiety, and she’s ready to give up and go back to the car when she hears a voice.

“Mitchell. Mitchell.”

“Jesse?”

“Little help. Officer down.”

She turns towards the sound of the voice, immediately worrying that Jesse is hurt because he sounds quiet and timid; much different to his usually obnoxiously loud voice.

“Swanson, where are you?”

“Officer down. Beca.”

“Oh, fuck.”

She rushes over to him, pulling out her radio to immediately notify Benji.

“Hey,” she kneels down next to Jesse, noticing the hand he has pressed to his neck and the blood covering him. “Hey man, you’re gonna be alright. Benji, officer down. Swanson’s down, at the other side of the creek. Hurry.”

“He snuck up on me.”

Beca places a hand over Jesse’s, smiling down at him. “It’s okay, it’s gonna be fine. Help’s coming, alright man?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be alright.”

/

“I have to go to the forensics lab at Quantico tomorrow.”

Beca looks up from her desk, watching Chloe place a coffee down in front of her.

“Thanks. In the middle of this?” Chloe nods, looking down. “Well, what for?”

“It’s confidential.”

“Confidential? Wha-why are you part of the ‘need to know’ loop? I-he’s trying to kill  _ me _ .”

Chloe sighs, sitting down on the chair beside Beca’s desk. Beca takes in her furrowed brow and the frown on her face and she notes that she’s never seen her look this serious before.

“Beca, this case is a lot bigger than we thought. I wanna tell you-”

“-Great, fill me in, tell me.”

“I  _ can’t _ . I’ve been ordered not to.”

Beca’s eyes widen and she laughs. “Are you kidding me?”

When all Chloe can do is nod, Beca pushes her chair away from her desk, grabbing her phone before making her way out of the room and ignoring Chloe yelling her name.

/

Maybe going to the head of the department and demanding to know what the hell is going on, yelling at the top of her voice, hasn’t been Beca’s greatest idea, but she gets her answers so she writes it off as a success.

He leads her to the Senator, a chairman of the Armed Services Committee, and Beca’s not quite sure how she should greet him. She’d just burst into his office telling whoever was guiding her up here that she’s sick of not knowing what’s going on, and that this whole thing is bullshit, so she’s pretty sure the ice has been broken, but she shakes his hand anyway.

He shows her images of more murder victims - more who were killed just like Ritter’s victims - and it looks like they’re in a warzone. 

“What is this?”

“When we first started investigating these killings, they looked like war crimes.”

“So you withheld crucial information so you could watch me and my detectives run around in circles?”

The suspect, Ritter’s apprentice, is a former US soldier who goes by the name of Sergeant Wright. The Senator tells her that they believe Wright finished his tours and came to Boston to help Ritter. To help him kill, and get revenge on Beca throwing him in a maximum security prison, which she’s still amazed that he managed to escape from.

/

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Beca, I’m at your apartment.”

“What? Why?”

“Someone broke in.”

“Fuck  _ me _ , I’ll be right there.”

/

She’s pretty sure she breaks the law speeding home, but she argues that it’s her right. She’s not sure that’s morally correct but she doesn’t care. There’s yellow police tape around her apartment block along with squad cars and Chloe’s Ford Mustang parked in front of the building. She sees this sight every day but the fact that it’s in front of her own home makes her stomach twist and her fingers shake.

“Detective Mitchell?”

“Yeah?” she turns around, seeing the coroner leaning against the coroner’s van. “What?”

“Dr. Beale asked if you’d ID the body?”

“What body? Chloe never said there was a body?”

“Sorry, I thought you knew,” he points towards the back of the van with his clipboard. “Dr. Beale said it was your neighbor. Young female, 20’s.”

Her heart drops. “Emily?” she jogs up to the van, praying to God that it’s not her. “Please, fuck. No. Come  _ on _ , no.” She climbs inside the van, whispering “no” over and over as she grabs the zip on the body bag and pulls it down.

The last thing she sees is Ritter before she feels a stabbing pain in her neck and then she’s gone.

/

She immediately gets a strong feeling of nostalgia when she wakes up.

Her mouth is duct taped and her hands and knees and ankles and bound together, and her back hurts from lying on the hard ground for too long; she instantly knows what’s going on.

“Looking for this?”

She looks over to where the voice came from, blinking a few times before her vision focuses and she sees Ritter holding her gun in one hand and a scalpel in the other.

“You know what your problem is?” he lifts the scalpel to her chest, holding the blunt side to her skin. It’s cold and it makes her shiver, and she’s breathing heavily as he presses down, but not hard enough to draw blood. “Your heart,” he moves it up her neck and across her cheek until it rests on her forehead. “Rules your head.”

He slowly reaches out towards her face and she turns her head, trying to control her breathing as he runs his finger over her cheek and pinches the corner of the duct tape. Then he pulls it off quickly, and she grunts in pain when it stings her skin and causes tears to form in her eyes.

“You gonna cry, Beca?” He asks her, and she’s gritting her teeth and clenching her jaw as he moves the scalpel down to her neck.

“Where’s your little helper?”

“Oh, Wright? He’s getting ready for our final game,” he smiles. “I’m so excited to finish what we started.”

The scalpel presses deeper on her neck until she feels a sharp stinging pain. It brings out a whimper from her until he drags it across a couple of centimeters before pulling back, and she’s wincing as she focuses on taking in small breaths before she ends up having a panic attack.

She wants this prick to know she’s not afraid of him; that there’s no way she’s giving him the satisfaction of knowing that she’s absolutely terrified.

The van door opens and then Ritter is following his guy outside, leaving Beca alone on the van floor as she feels the blood run down the side of her neck and into the back of her hair. It’s stinging and her whole body aches and if she doesn’t find a way to get out of here  _ now _ , she knows that she’s gonna end up dead by the end of the night.

She’s surprised when her mind immediately goes to Chloe. How Chloe will feel if she dies tonight. Whether Chloe will be sad. She wonders if she’ll cry. If she’ll regret not telling Beca something. Beca knows that if she dies tonight, she’ll die regretting never telling Chloe that she likes her. Like likes her. Maybe loves her.

Maybe she’s in love with her.

“Fuck.”

She doesn’t have time to be thinking about this. Chloe will kill her if she wasted too much time daydreaming and ended up getting herself murdered.

She pulls herself up as best as she can with her hands and feet bound, shuffling across the van to see if she can reach into the front seat. She can’t though, it’s no use. So she turns around, frantically looking for anything that could help her. A phone or a gun or even a scalpel that Ritter left behind to cut herself free. She’s not sure if she can take two guys, but she’ll at least try.

There’s a locker of some sort leaning against the wall of the van, but after a few tugs on the lock, it’s no use.

“Fuck, come  _ on _ ,” she whispers angrily. “Please.”

She can hear chatter from outside of the van and she’s starting to panic but she makes sure to focus on her breathing and not the stinging on her neck and the fact that she’ll be dead if she doesn’t find  _ something _ to help her out of this mess.

And then she sees a small black bag on the top of a toolbox, and she finds herself smiling when she opens it to see a road flare.

“Beca,” Ritter calls out, and Beca quickly pulls the cap off and quickly strikes it against the flare. “Did you miss me?”

She’s lying down when he opens the door, face pressed to the floor as she shields the flare with her body. The heat is intense and she’s pretty sure it’s going to burn her skin if she doesn’t move sometime soon, but she lays as still as she can as Ritter approaches her, asking her if she’s okay.

As soon as she feels him get close enough she turns around, using all the force she has in her body to shove the flare in his face. And then he’s stumbling back, screaming in pain as he falls backwards out of the van and rolls around in agony. She knows for a fact that his friend will be able to hear him, so she shuffles out of the van as quick as she can, grabbing the taser that he had dropped when he fell.

“Son of a..  _ Bitch _ !” She digs the taser into his side and presses the button, holding it there for as long as she can before she hears Wright’s voice from behind some bushes next to the van.

“Dr. Ritter?”

She turns to look at him, immediately lying still when she notices that he hasn’t seen them yet. A groan from Ritter catches his attention though, and she quickly tries recharging the taser back up before he makes his way over.

“Dr. Ritter?” he’s leaning over his groaning body, back towards Beca, and she reaches out, digs the taser into his leg, and presses the button. He falls with a loud grunt, dropping his gun, and Beca quickly drops the taser to reach out for the gun instead.

He notices her reaching for the gun, and he’s panting as he crawls over to reach for it himself. Beca grabs it first though, and she quickly fires two shots; one into his chest and another into his stomach.

“Oh fuck. Oh shit.”

She’s breathing so heavily that it feels like she’s going to go into cardiac arrest but Ritter is still alive and groaning and there’s no way she’s waiting this out until someone comes to find her. She wiggles her way over to Ritter’s body, grabbing the scalpel out of his hand and shuffling away from him as she cuts herself free. First by the ankles, then the knees, then the wrists.

Just as she sets herself free, she looks over at Ritter to see him reaching for the gun, and she quickly stands up and makes her way over to him. He’s still twitching from the electric shocks and half of his face is bleeding and burned due to the flare, but she still stands on his arm before he manages to grab the gun.

He groans again as she presses her foot harder on his arms that are stretched out above his head as he lay down, before leaning down to pick the gun up.

And God, she wants to shoot him. To keep to her word and shoot him in the head like she told him she wanted to. But the sinister part of her sees that he’s suffering and she wants to make this worse. Wants to keep him alive and watch him suffer the way he’s made her suffer over the years.

She raises the gun and points it at his head.

“Beca,” he groans. She moves her aim to the side, right where his hands are clasped together, and closes one eye as she aims and pulls the trigger.

The bullet goes right through both of his hands, matching the scars that he had inflicted on her years ago, and she puts the gun back in her holster.

“We match.”

/

The events of the night seemed to make her forget about the fact that they’d broken into her apartment earlier that day, so when she returns home and sees what state it’s in, she doesn’t quite know what to do.

She leans against the open door, feeling the fatigue of the past few days finally setting in as she slides down it.

When Chloe shows up two minutes later, she looks shocked to see Beca sitting down against the door with her head in her hands.

“Beca?”She looks up, frowning when she sees that Chloe is holding some sort of tank. “Um,” Chloe kneels down next to her, handing her the tank, and Beca smiles when she sees a baby tortoise inside. “I wanted you to see for yourself what extraordinary creatures these are.” 

She shakes her head, running her hand over the top of the tank, and she smiles when she feels Chloe place a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“I also thought you might need some help cleaning up.”

She lets Chloe help her up, and sets the tortoise tank on the counter before running a hand through her hair.

“I’ll get you some work clothes.”

“These  _ are _ my work clothes?”

She’s wearing a floral shirt, a red leather jacket, denim jeans, and four inch heels, and all Beca can think is of  _ course _ they are. She laughs, and then Chloe is laughing too, and she thinks that man, she’s so happy she didn’t die today. Not being able to hear Chloe’s laugh - while it sometimes can be annoying - would be the  _ worst _ .

“Jesse’s okay, by the way. He’s gonna be fine.”

She nods in understanding. She’d caught up with Benji earlier that night, so she already knows, but it’s nice to know that her partner is doing okay.

“So! Where do you want me to start?”

Beca looks around, taking in the mess. There’s not an inch of her apartment that isn’t covered by mess or debris or broken ornaments and pieces of furniture, and after the day she’s had, she’s not sure she wants to do this tonight.

“No. You know what, we’re going to get a drink.”

“What?”

“You always say we need to hang out outside of work so… come on. First round’s on me.”

Chloe opens her mouth to say something but after seeing the stubborn look on Beca’s face that she’s become so familiar with over the past few years, she decides not to. So she takes her gloves off, puts them back in her bag, and makes her way to the door where Beca is waiting for her.

“You’re… going out dressed like that?”

Beca nods. “These are my going out clothes.”

Chloe laughs, turning around to walk out of the apartment, and Beca follows.

“So I heard you got second degree burns.”

“Yeah. Don’t know if you knew this but flares are fucking  _ hot _ .”


End file.
